


Taking Control

by angelwriter



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Light Dom/sub, Mentioned Warlock Dowling, Nanny Crowley (Good Omens), Sexual Tension, She/Her Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22727491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelwriter/pseuds/angelwriter
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley have a conversation about who is in control....
Relationships: Nanny Ashtoreth/Brother Francis (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Taking Control

Written for #ineffablehusbandsweek2020 on Twitter 

Prompt: Nanny/Gardener 

Note: I use she/her pronouns for Crowley here. 

This was co-written with Chaoticsoul

*** 

She was gorgeous. Of course she was, it was Crowley. Crowley with his narrow, sinful hips, long limbs made for coiling and squeezing, tight clothes that screamed 'let me tempt you', with that flaming red hair and pink thin lips that were even more enticing, Aziraphale doubted how anyone could NOT be attracted to Crowley. 

But Crowley as a woman. 

Well... 

That hit differently. 

***

"I'm going out for a bit," Mrs Dowling said one evening. "You two can look after Warlock while I'm gone. Thaddeus will be home late, you can leave his dinner in the fridge. Will that be alright?" 

Crowley nodded her head, giving Mrs Dowling a cool look. "It's okay with me if it's okay with Brother Francis." 

"Yes!" Aziraphale said in Brother Francis's accent. "It's ok with me. We'll look after Master Warlock together." 

"Great!" 

Mrs Dowling left and Crowley looked towards Aziraphale in his outfit. She stared at him up and down. Her lips were a faded shade of deep purple and her hair was tied up with gold snake hair pins. Aziraphale lost his breath just looking at her. Her eyes moved over the top of her circular glasses and the golden colour was warm and shining. She wore a tweed skirt that was down to her ankles and Crowley had a pair of stockings underneath it. Men in the 1940s were always corrupted by ankles. Aziraphale couldn't relate until now. 

"What you do want?" The angel asked, taking off his hat and fixing his white hair that was sticking up in awful places. 

"What you mean, angel? Why would I want something?" Her voice was smooth like butter on a warm toast. Her Scottish accent was thick and set fire to Aziraphale's belly. He always loved the tone of Crowley's voice, especially like this. 

"You are looking at me like that. And don't say 'Like what?', you know what I mean." 

"Just getting a good look at you, angel." 

"Whatever for?" 

"I've never seen you like this." 

"Like what? Would you please tell me already." 

"So strong. You actually look confident for once, I'm.. well I'm impressed."

"What? I'm not. I just come of that way. Taking on a role, you see. Brother Francis is sure of himself and he's a fine man who knows what he's talking about." 

"That has to come from somewhere, from within. Why else would it come so naturally to you. Trust me, I know you. You are confident."

"Well, I suppose it's in born. I was a Principality at the Gates of Eden. I was going to fight in the War. Might still...And you are dominant. I wonder, why is that..." 

"Angel," she purred soothingly. "You thought you weren't confident because you were always put down but I have seen that side of you. I know that's who you really are. As for my dominance, well I think it's important to showcase who's in charge otherwise Warlock would get ideas and you know how he can be." 

"So you're not...domineering otherwise, you know as you, not as Nanny?" His face became red as his mind played over things that an angel of the Lord shouldn't even think about. 

Crowley chucked lowly. "Oh no, I'm dominant as myself too you just haven't seen that part of me yet." 

The corners of her lips lifted as the angel continued to blush profusely. She waved her hand elegantly in the air. "What about you then, I know you must have a secret dominant side waiting to show someone how in control you are, how loud you can make them-" Crowley paused before continuing, "how you can let them let go."

Aziraphale gulped loudly. "How-- what?? I would never. I'm more...um...well yes. I would say I am fussy and can be controlling in some instances. I never thought about it in that way before." 

That was a lie of course. Aziraphale was no stranger to the ways of sexual intimacy and what the humans got up to in their free time. He read a lot of books on the subject in fact when his curiosity got the better of him. He knew what it meant and he had thought about. And with a certain red haired in mind. He sucked his lips into his mouth and fiddled with his hands. He flushed all the way down his neck and the tips of his ears. 

"I haven't... " Aziraphale said with a stronger tone. Crowley was a snake, he recalled, Crowley could smell it on him. She could smell the lies, the sweat on the back of his neck, the faint way his lips curled when he lied. He took a step back in case Crowley could smell it from where she stood. "I know that you could have been that type of character. Taking humans up into your bedroom. Having your way with them. Pinning them down. Not me! I'm not that kind of...being." 

Crowley stepped forward. "Don't lie to me, angel." Her tone was chilling, almost seductive. "There are people I could have taken to my bed. I could have my way with just anyone. But the one I truly want to have..." Her voice dropped lower. "...isn't allowed." 

His head was spinning, Aziraphale was sure Crowley couldn't have meant himself. He couldn't think of anything to say. She was close to him, he could smell her mint breath and flowery perfume. Her eyes were blinking slowly, her lashes fluttering as she waited for his response. It was the same look she gave Aziraphale when she watched him eat. Hunger. Thirst. Desire. She wanted to devour him. 

"Do it," Aziraphale whispered, already breathless. "Just kiss me. Let's see who can really take control."


End file.
